yesterday, again, ahead of us
by tombombadillo
Summary: But then it's the way her face lights up when she sees her, and, more importantly it's the shriek of "Mommy!" that has her taking a step backwards. (Time travel AU, of a sort, set after 47 seconds)
1. Chapter 1

**Not entirely sure where this came from, not entirely sure how I feel about it, but hey. Not entirely sure if this has been done before?**

* * *

It's funny. Two months ago she'd have been pissed off with Castle being here. Constantly asking questions, badgering her about ice cream, and whether he actually _has_ to be there (_can't Ryan and Esposito do this? You have uniforms for a reason. There's a diner _just_ down there we could go get a milkshake_). Except they both know – knew? – he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Not then. But that was two months ago and now she's not entirely sure where they stand any more. If she stands anywhere at all. God, what she'd give to have him whining at her. Everything is too quiet, too noisy, too… she's grown too accustomed to having him there. She's standing in line at an ice cream van, a heavy April sun beating down on her neck, gnawing on her lower lip. It seems that's all she does these days. All she wants to do is ask the guy a question about whether he's seen anything but the girl in front of her, she can barely be more than five, (and where the heck are her parents anyway?), is cooking up an ice cream concoction worthy of Castle's praise. Two scoops chocolate, one scoop mint choc chip, and another of rocky road, plus a generous amount of three different sauces. It's a sugar coma waiting to happen, and not something she's likely to try in the not so and distant future. She can't decide if she pities the parents for having to put up with it, or ashamed at them for letting that amount of sugar into their daughters blood system. But, finally, the girl has run off with her ice cream and Beckett steps up to the window. The vendor looks almost thankful when she holds up her badge.

* * *

Thankful or not, the man didn't know much about anything, said he had left at least two hours before hand, and hadn't pitched up that morning until about four hours ago. Couldn't help her at all, unless she was interested in ice cream. So she finds herself walking down a pathway towards where she thinks is a crazy golf course. Maybe she'll find something there, if her memory serves her correctly. It's a popular place. Her search, however, is interrupted by the appearance of a young brunette girl. Tears streaming down her cheeks, eyes red-rimmed, it's the girl from the ice cream van. She's still clutching at the Castle-esque ice cream, so there's no fear of her having dropped it. She thinks she must have lost her parents. But then it's the way her face lights up when she sees her, and, more importantly it's the shriek of "_Mommy!_" that has her taking a step backwards.

"Are you okay?"

"I thought you left!" The girls eyes are shining, blue and clear and completely open and for a moment it's like she's looking at Castle. "Where's Daddy? Is he hiding?"

"I don't – what's your name?"

The girl narrows her eyes at her. Castle constantly tells her that she looks at him like that at least five times a day. "Stop being silly, Mommy. Daddy is always the silly one, not you."

"I'm not your mommy."

The girl laughs as if this is all just some silly game to her. "Yes you are." She jumps towards her, the scoops of ice cream wobbling dangerously, and pushes at her jacket with her free hand. "Look, you have the badge and everything." She traces the number with one podgy finger, reading out the numbers as she goes. "Badge number four one three one nine. You're a detective, isn't that right? And Daddy is a writer."

"Yes, but-" Wait, what? _Writer_?

"Are we playing a game?"

"No. Where are your parents?" This doesn't make any sense. No sense at all she is not a parent. She has never been a parent. She's never been pregnant, or given birth, or – or anything. There's no way this girl could possibly be _hers_. But the way she's looking at her, the way she looks so much like Castle… hell, if this is a joke then the girl deserves an Oscar. It's good acting.

"Mommy, I don't like this game." The girl looks up at her with apprehensive eyes, big and wide and fearful, and there's still tears clinging to the long shadows of her eyelashes. "Can we go find Daddy?"

She feels like she's been given a swift kick to the ribs. This doesn't make any sense. This makes absolutely zero sense because she knows for a fact that she has never ever been in a state close to giving birth. But she's not about to leave a five year old out in the middle of New York, in the middle of summer, with nothing but a melting ice cream. "Shall we go see if he's at home?"

"Why did he go home? Didn't he want to stay with us?"

"He needed to… do some writing. You know how Daddy is with his writing. When inspiration strikes…"

The girl giggles, and takes hold of Kate's hand. It sends a jolt of… something through her heart, scorching through her bones until it leaves her breathless. "I have to tickle him. A lot. And then he stops writing and he chases me around until he catches me. What you do is icky."

"What do I do?"

"I don't know. But you keep saying I have to wait until I'm older and then you always go really red. It's icky. You're icky." She giggles, and then holds out her ice cream. "Do you want some ice cream? You always say I have to share. Though Daddy always says you don't like ice cream unless it's just vanilla, which is _boring_."

The breath in her chest quickens. Castle has always accused her of being too plain in her ice cream choices, and always tells them to put various sauces and sprinkles on it, followed by a very generously sized flake. She makes a point to be annoyed by it, only she never does a good job of actually hiding it. She likes that he makes it more exciting. "I'm okay. You enjoy your ice cream."

"Momma?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's your wedding ring?"

_Wedding ring? _She's married? To… Castle? "I – um – it's…"

"Is it around your neck?"

"Yeah. Can't wear it for work. Keep it safe, keep it hidden." Her free hand goes to the place where the silver chain, cool against her skin, lies tucked underneath her shirt, can feel the slight bump of her mothers ring. Just on. Singular. Wedding ring? Seriously?

"When did you change your clothes?"

"You're just full of questions today, aren't you?"

"You keep saying I'm too much like Daddy and that I should learn to be quiet most of the time. You say I talk too much, but Daddy says talking is good because it expands my vocabulary. I don't know what a vocabulary is but I can say it, and Daddy says that counts. He says I should be a writer like him, but I'm going to be an astronaut. Or maybe an elephant keeper. You love elephants, don't you? I could go live in Africa and ride an elephant to work every morning, and you and Daddy could come visit me."

"Yeah… yeah, that would be good."

"Momma?"

"Yeah?"

"This is a new car." She's looking at her, confused, slightly amused, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You got a new car! Did Daddy take yours? Why did Daddy take yours?"

"It's… only temporary. Old one will be back soon. It's gone to be fixed."

"Is that where my car seat is?"

"Um. Yeah." Kate pulls open the passenger door, stands by and lets the girl climb in. Except she doesn't want to. Is looking at her with that same confused look she had by the trees. "Do you want to go home or not?"

"Yes, but – Daddy always sits in the front. My seat's always in the back."

"Well… Daddy's not here, and we don't have your seat. So-" she jerks her head towards the front seat. The seat that's been empty for far too long recently. "You want to come sit up here with me?"

If it's at all possible, the girl's eyes just get wider, and wider. "Really, Mommy?"

"Yeah, come on."

* * *

She's trying not to freak out. Trying to do her best to keep her actual freaking out internalised, rather than anything on the outside. She has no idea what this is, what the heck is going on, and whether or not she has actually just kidnapped a five year old from a park. If she has? She's screwed. Her entire career has just been thrown down the pan. For what? A girl claiming her and Castle are her parents? It's probably just some stupid joke by Ryan and Esposito, one that will make them laugh and then she'll give them the entire load of paperwork that is stacking up on her desk. Probably worth it, they'll say. The girl, right now, is looking out of the window with as much wonder as Castle does. Marvelling at all of the people, the tourists, and her head twisting to and fro as they make their way through the streets. There's more than one yell about a poodle, and then a pug, and then a woman who had hair like a poodle. Kate almost regrets not seeing it.

Castle's apartment building looms in the distance, looking surprisingly dark and gloomy compared to the heat and sunshine of the rest of the city. Another reminder that Castle is getting further and further away from her. She can't even work out why. The girl is out of the car, and standing on the sidewalk before Kate has even managed to turn off the engine. Kate waits for the road to be clear before following her.

"Can I go momma?"

"Yeah. Sure. Go ahead…" The girl pegs it for the glass door, for Eduardo and his charming smile, brown hair flying behind her as she goes. "Wait by the elevator!"

"I know!" she yells back over her shoulder, leaving Kate standing by her car at a complete loss for words.

* * *

"Can I press the button?" The girl asks, just as Kate reaches over and pushes the up button with more vigour than is probably necessary. She's functioning on auto-pilot, not used to having someone there with her, let alone a kid, who, of course, would want to press every single button that she can. "Moooooom."

""You can press the other one."

She pouts, like it wasn't good enough, but resolutely presses the button for the top floor anyway. The elevator jerks into motion, calling into question again, why Castle's building seems to have one of the crappiest elevators she's ever seen. Apparently, despite the number of wealthy people who live in here, there's not enough necessity to upgrade it.

The doors open and the girl runs for the door, for Castle's door, leaving no doubt in Kate's mind that Castle is indeed the girl's father. Apparently. Which makes no sense. She's knocking on it before Kate can get two steps away from the elevator, and she hopes, and prays that Castle isn't in. That he's not in and she can just take the girl back to her apartment and work out what to do with her. But then she hears the door open, and Castle's head appears in the doorway.

The girl pushes past him, into the loft, and Castle can't even do anything about it. Just turns around and stares at her in surprise, and then steps out into the hallway. His already confused face gets all the more confused when he spots Kate, something about it looking crestfallen, and it breaks her heart.

"Beckett? What are you doing here? And who is … who was she?"

"Can we talk?"

"Well – I'm kind of in the middle of something." Time was he'd have let her in the loft without her having to even say anything.

"It's important."

He bites hard on his lip, swallows, as if there's something he's longing to say but just can't. And then he's jerking his head back into the loft. "Sure."

The girl has disappeared as she walks into the loft, Kate wonders where she's gone, but the thought is short lived as Castle turns to her. "So?"

"I was in the park, standard canvas, but I came across this girl. She can't be more than five, and she was crying, and I thought she'd lost her parents. But then she recognised me. She _knew_ me. Badge number, she knew my job, and she called me momma. I'm not – I've never been a parent. I know that I have never been in that situation, but she knew everything. Almost everything."

Castle is staring at her like she's talking bullshit. Almost like the way she looks at him when he comes up with some crazed theory that makes as much sense as his crazy Sharknado films. "What does this have to do with me?"

"The thing is… you're… her father."

* * *

**twitter:** ktkatics

**tumblr:** sirmcsteamy


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing he can think to do is laugh. Really, Beckett? Seriously? One hell of a joke. He'd expect it from Ryan and Esposito, at a push, but not Kate. She wouldn't be this involved. Maybe watch from the side lines and laugh when it all comes to fruition.

"Very funny. Take her back from whichever friend you borrowed her from. Good joke."

"Castle, it's not-"

A scream from upstairs interrupts her and Beckett twists sideways, concern etched all over her face. She doesn't even finish her sentence, instead spins on her heel and is running for the stairs. He soon follows, close behind her. The girl is standing at the top of the stairs, tears streaking down her cheeks, dripping from her chin and onto her shirt. This is more than upset, this is close to hysterics. He's not seen a child like this since Alexis was ten.

"What's wrong?"

"Where's – my - room?" each word is interspersed with a hiccup, and then a sob. "My – room – it's gone!"

Castle grabs hold of Kate's arm and spins her around. He half expects her to hit him, but when he catches sight of her face it's still that look of conflict and concern. "This isn't funny any more. Take her home."

"This _is_ her home, Castle. I don't know how and I don't know why, but _she_ lives here."

"Beckett-"

"Look, I have absolutely zero explanation for this, Castle. I don't _know_. I don't know who she is. She won't even tell me her name." She runs a hand through her hair, turns to look at the girl with such a sense of desperation he almost believes her. "I don't know what to do here. I have no idea."

"I have an idea. Maybe." He pushes past her, one foot on the step, and then another, until he can almost reach out and touch her. "Hey. Hey, it's okay. No need for all these tears."

"Daddy, daddy – my room-"

"It's not there. I know. But you think you could answer just one question for me? It's super easy. You can't get it wrong."

"What?"

"All I want – is for you to tell me what your name is. That's it. You know your name right?"

The girl squeezes her eyes closed, her face screwed up against the fresh onslaught of tears. "Mollie. But Daddy why don't you know my name? You never forget things like that and Momma forgot my name and my room, daddy, my room…"

"Mollie? That's a pretty name. Okay another question. Slightly harder than the last one. You ready?"

Mollie pushes both hands over her hair, taming any fly away whips and getting it out of her face. It's not as finesse as Kate, not quite as graceful, but there's enough familiarities for him to feel slightly sick. But, Mollie nods, eyes focused on him.

"Okay. What date is it? The last date you remember."

"Um… there was… Olympics. We painted flags in nursery. I was the Seychelles. And you took us! We saw the diving and some gymnastics, oh, oh, and the _tennis_ and we went for the whole two weeks because Momma was on vacation."

"You went to London?" How can she have gone to London? London isn't for another four months.

"No, silly! That was years and years and years ago. I wasn't alive. We went to Tokyo."

"Toky – but that's not for another … eight years. You're …"

"I'm not eight years old, Daddy. I'm five!"

That wasn't what he meant. But this is the weirdest thing he has ever seen. This is strange and odd and he has no idea what the heck to do. Is he actually dealing with a time traveller? A five year old time traveller who claims to be his daughter? "Mollie, what do you know about time travel?" He almost expects an interruption from Beckett, telling him to not be so ridiculous, but she's just quiet.

"Momma says it's silly but Daddy says it's possible. Only with a flux… flux… something. I can't say it."

"Flux capacitor?"

"Yeah! That. He says Simon Doyle managed it, so therefore he should too. I don't know who Simon Doyle is, and Momma says he was just planting ideas in Daddy's head because Daddy is very impressionable." She grins. Proud at herself for knowing such a big word.

He has no idea who Simon Doyle is, but it doesn't matter. He's sure to find out some day. He hopes. "And what about you?"

"What about me what?"

"Do you believe in time travel?

"I don't know…"

"You know what I think you've done? I think you've time travelled. I think you've gone back in time before you even existed. Before me and your… mother were even together."

"You and Mommy aren't married? But – you've always been married!" Castle turns to Kate. Her gaze is solely on him, heartbroken, confused, but of all the things he can't deal with right now, it's her. It hurts too much that she's here at all, let alone with a child like this. One that looks like him and acts like Kate. That's – too much. It's all too much.

"Maybe to you. But right now… we're not anything."

"Castle…"

"Well we're not, Kate. Are we?" But he doesn't let her answer his question, directs his attention back to Mollie. "So, what do you think?"

"Is this one of the games? Is this one of your games because I don't think I like it. It's not fun. Can we go back to normal?"

"Mollie, I'm sorry. This isn't a game. Before Beckett walked in with you I had no idea who you are. You don't have a room here. You've never had a room here."

That's when the crying starts again. Big, fat floods of tears that splash on to her legs, her arms, onto his shirt, the floor. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to react, so he does the only thing that comes to him. He scoops her up into his arm and presses her against his chest, whispers nonsense words that he hope are soothing in her ear. Mollie wraps her arms around his neck, it's tight, almost a choke hold, but he feels too harsh telling her that he kind of can't breathe. He makes his careful way down the stairs, past Kate, and collapses on the sofa. Mollie is a heavy weight on his lap, and it's not one he sees as losing in the distant future.

* * *

He orders Chinese. He knows his and Beckett's orders off by heart, but he has to ask Mollie for hers. She looks slightly offended as she tells him it's beef chow mein, but at least she's stopped crying. Seems to have accepted the strange, weird goings on that have bought her to his door. But right now she's perched on the sofa watching Lilo and Stitch. He wasn't even aware he had that on DVD. Beckett has taken up a position on the counter, frowning into a mug of coffee that she made herself. Can't remember a time when he'd taught her how to use his overly complicated coffee machine, and he's not sure how he feels about that. Doesn't know how he feels about choosing Mollie and a cheesy Disney movie over sitting with Beckett.

"This your favourite film?"

"No."

Well, it's to the point at least. "You got a favourite film?"

"I have three. X Files, Jumangi, and the Mummy. The first one. The second one is good, but the third one was just…we pretend it didn't happen."

"They're all very… older kid films. They don't scare you?"

Mollie rolls her eyes, and Castle can't help but flick his gaze to Beckett. But she's not looking at them. "Why should I be scared? Momma fights of all the bad guys. Even Daddy is scared of Mommy. I'm not scared of _anything_ because Momma will always protect me from them, and Daddy will too. Though not in the same way. He doesn't walk around with a gun. He goes on monster hunting trips with me and we catch all of the bad guys in the house. Momma's much better at getting the ones outside so we leave that to her."

"So… your parents. They're … happy right?"

"They're so icky together. Not like you two. They cuddle on the sofa and they kiss each other a lot and they make googly eyes at each other over absolutely everything. Momma always pretends to be annoyed at Daddy but everyone knows she doesn't mean it, and Daddy pretends to be a big kid and teases her all of the time just to get a reaction out of her and then they laugh about it and do more kissing and it's _icky_."

Mollie rises up on to her knees and looks over at Beckett. Her mother. Future mother. Supposedly. He doesn't want to think about it. Doesn't want to think about what possible future they have when the present they have right now is hanging so precariously. "Have you two fallen out?"

"No –no we're just…" he starts, and then gives up with a sigh. He doesn't even know any more.

* * *

"She's asleep." He sighs, returning to the dim kitchen and to where Kate is still hunched over the breakfast bar and the remains of the toast Mollie had eaten before he'd taken her upstairs.. "Out like a light."

"Okay. Good. Is she… alright?"

"Yeah, I suppose. I mean, I suppose it's where she lives. It's still familiar. It's just… not her family."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know." What he wants is a glass of wine. Plural. Maybe some scotch while he's at it. "What do you think the police would say?"

"That we're probably delusional and then I'd get arrested for kidnapping, most likely. The most we can do is just… wait."

"Wait? For what? Her actual parents to just magically show up? For her to just disappear back to her own time? I don't think this is how it works. According to her we're her parents."

"So… you're suggesting that we actually raise her? Castle-"

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm _saying_ we should call the police. Report her as missing, that you found her crying and she just followed her here."

"What happened to you?"

The question catches him off kilter, and it takes him a moment to actually realise she's completely changed the subject. Another two seconds to actually formulate a response. "What do you mean?"

"What do I – you would have_ loved_ this. You should be jumping up and down, and spinning all these wild theories about time travel and flux capacitors, and telling that we should be on the look-out for a Delorean or a TARDIS or something else completely ridiculous and now you're just… I hardly recognise you anymore."

"I didn't realise you cared." He replies, putting too much snark into the words than is probably necessary. He turns away so he can't see the hurt in her eyes, the way she looks at him. Like he's just ripped her heart out of her chest and stamped on it. "I need a drink."

"_Castle_-"

"What do you want me to say, Beckett? Sorry? Maybe I've decided it's time I stopped play-acting. Maybe I realised that all I am is a hindrance to you, to the boys, to Gates. I'm _sorry_ if that offends you."

Beckett opens her mouth, ready to defend herself, or yell at him, or something, and he's not sure which one he wants her to do the most. But then she closes her mouth, shutting down, and pushes herself off the stool. Running away, in typical Beckett fashion. Closing herself off from everything and everyone around her. "I should… I should go."

"Beckett-"

"I'll be back after work. Call me if you need me."

And then she's gone, the loft feeling suddenly empty, and he's left wanting to bang his head repeatedly on a hard surface.

* * *

**twitter:** ktkatics

**tumblr:** sirmcsteamy


	3. Chapter 3

His daughter is incredulous. He actually thinks she might cause him bodily damage, and she probably would if it weren't for the fact she was seven months pregnant and lifting anything heavy is strictly against protocol. But she seems to have a death glare that is on par with Kate's. And that's a thought that terrifies him.

"You let your _five year old daughter_… time travel? I am hearing this right? Mollie has gone back in time to a certain point in time, and you don't know when? How?" She's looking from him to Kate, and then back again so quickly he's concerned her neck might snap. But he's reluctant to try and get her to calm down.

"We… don't know." he winces, feeling like he should have a thousand daggers in his chest from the way Alexis is glaring at him.

"We were just having a picnic at the park and she went to get an ice cream. We could see the ice cream van, we could see Mollie, she wasn't that far away and we watched her the whole way. We could see her and then we just couldn't. The FBI got involved, and then the TTA got involved, and then they worked out that someone had used a Jumper and Mollie had simply got caught in the fallout." Kate sighs, lifting her head from the cup of her hand. She hasn't been able to summon up the energy to do anything since the news came through, has been in the same position for over an hour now.

"So she could be…"

"It could be yesterday, it could be a hundred years ago." Castle adds, trying to tamp down on the anxiety deep in his gut. Why can't his children ever be just safe? If it's not Paris, then it's blinking time travel. And to think he used to relish the day he could go back in time and relive the good old days.

Alexis swears. Loudly. "What are you going to do? What are the TTA doing?"

"We've got to wait. There's nothing else we can do. The people who Jumped will be back eventually, they assume, so we've just got to ask them where they went. We know that, we go back and find her."

"Because it's _that_ simple."

"Mollie is smart. She'll go to the police, they'll take care of her until we can get there."

"And what if they recognise the name? They'll ask her who her parents are, they'll search the names. And then past you are suddenly charged with a kid they _haven't had yet_."

"It's not an ideal situation, I'll admit. But, we have dealt with worse. And I am an excellent father. I have you to testify. And Kate won't leave a five year old out on the street. It'll be fine. Everything will be fine. We'll work out where she is and we'll find her and bring her home and we can just carry on as if nothing ever happened."

Alexis huffs. His daughter and his wife are so similar it actually scares him on a daily basis. He'd always been concerned about the jagged relationship between the two, but he really had nothing to worry about. The two have been damn near inseperable since they both became mothers. Mothers in arms. Together. Against him. "Right. I've got to go. Callum has had Toby all day, and you know how he gets. And I'm really craving some jello. If you find out anything _call me_."

Castle nods in agreement and wraps his arms around his eldest daughter. It's slightly awkward, what with the size of her abdomen, but it's enough. "Tell everyone we said hello."

* * *

She practically ends up sleeping on him that night. He knows this has hit her hard, knows that she blames herself for Mollie's disappearance and nothing he can do will convince her otherwise. Neither of them could have guessed that someone would Jump in the middle of Central Park, and let alone have a five year old caught up in the middle of it. But she's still tearing herself up inside with guilt no matter how many times he tries to convince her she did nothing wrong.

"She will be okay, right?"

"Yeah. She'll be fine. She'll probably be giving past us a really good run for their money. Demanding everything under the sun. And you'll be tearing your hair out because the thought of having a child with me is actually unbearable, and you'll be ranting and raving about what could have possibly persuaded you to even get _that_ close to me."

There's a soft laugh, one that tickles that skin on his neck. "I didn't hate you _that_ much."

"Are you serious? I had a tally of how many times you threatened to shoot me. Admit it, bearing my child would have been your worst nightmare."

"Mmm, maybe." She's quiet again, one finger tracing soft and imaginative shapes into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. "They will have her, right?"

"Yeah. Of course they will. She'll be fast asleep in the spare bedroom, in a bed that is far too big for her and she'll probably be loving every minute of it."

"What if she needs me?"

"She has you."

"No…" she's sitting up now, pushing her hair back from her forehead. "I'd be freaking out. You said so yourself. I will be freaking out, and you know me, Castle. I don't believe in anything until there's evidence in front of me. I won't believe in time travel and that she's actually my daughter from the future. I'll think it's just Castle playing some dumb ass joke. She won't stay. If Mollie needs her she won't be there. I won't be there."

Castle's hand slides over the sheets and finds his wife's hand. Is that what this has all been about? He knows she beats herself up about some of her choices, about how she used to run away from almost everything, but he doesn't. blame her at all He keeps having to tell her that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because they're here right now, with a beautiful daughter, and the past is exactly that. The past.

"She's got me, and I'll be okay. Mollie will come home none the worse. In fact, she'll probably be laughing about how stupid we both were., claiming that she had an adventure while we were both at home fretting over nothing."

"She still says we're both stupid."

"Well, five year olds are very honest, and usually speak the truth. We are very stupid." He tugs on her arm until she gives, slumps down next to him. The weariness in her bones seeps into his, and he can feel the heavy pull of sleep behind his eyes. "Things aren't going to get any worse if you sleep." he murmurs against the crown of her head.

* * *

He wakes up to any empty bed. It's still dark outside, though maybe there's a faint hint of dawn if he squints hard enough. That doesn't matter though. He's more concerned about Kate. He pads through the loft with well honed practice, avoiding the discarded toys that he should probably make Mollie clean up at some point probably. He's just too lenient with her. Reminds him of Kate far too much, and he's wrapped around both of their little fingers. Anyway. It's not like `Kate makes her tidy up either. He likes the disarray of it. Makes him feel like the loft is actually a home.

He knows where she'll be, doesn't even need the guiding light from Mollie's bedroom to tell him that she's curled up on the bed frame, blanket pulled up under her chest. There's practically no room for her on the bed, taking into account the sheer amount of stuffed animals that dominates almost three quarters of the bed. There's a stuffed black dragon of a thing tucked under Kate's elbow. Mollie used to take the toy everywhere, car, shop, precinct… They've only just managed to persuade her to leave him at home, and she does, all but reluctantly. But he's still there when she sleeps at night.

"How long have you been up here?"

She shrugs in the dim light, eyes cast low, fingers toying with the head of the dragon. "She can't sleep without him. She can't sleep without a bed full of toys. And a bed time story, and she doesn't have a night light, she didn't get a bed time-"

"Kate-"

"-and what if she didn't find you? What if she's just wondering around, and it's dark and it's cold, and she's _five years old_, and I know what these streets are like, I know the horror stories, I have _seen_ them, and I can't – Castle, I can't live with myself if something happens to her."

"We'll find her, Kate."

"How? How we will we find her? Maybe she'll be with Castle. Maybe she'll have been fed, and be perfectly healthy, or maybe she'll be locked up in a basement by some disgusting creep and if she is I swear, I'm going to put a bullet through their head, or maybe-" she breaks off, the words for the moment, too overwhelming. "Castle, what if she's…"

"Don't you dare think it. Kate, don't you dare." His legs are taking him across the room before he can even process it, ignores the protest in his back and knees until he's squeezing in next to Kate, shoving his feet under the haphazard pile of stuffed toys. "How does she sleep in this? It's a miracle."

"She's smaller than you."

"I suppose that helps." He huffs, turning over onto his side so he can pull Kate against him, causing an avalanche of teddies to cascade to the floor. "See, she has to come back because she's going to yell at me for disturbing her carefully arranged sleeping arrangements."

He thinks he hears a laugh, small and quiet, but he's sure it's there. She doesn't reply though. She's already asleep.

* * *

Small hands tugging at his sleeve. Quiet whimpers, and attempts at muffling sniffles. It's been years since Alexis has woken him up from a nightmare, and even when she had, she didn't do quiet. She did loud wailing and yelling at him. And she didn't do waiting for him. She climbed right into bed with him and jammed her cold feet under his rib cage.

"'lesis?" he mumbles, turning over with blurred and sleep clogged eyes. Brown hair. Not Alexis. Mollie. Right. She's a person in his home right now. "Mollie?"

"I can't sleep."

He automatically pats the other side of the bed and she moves. Doesn't even climb over him, but instead takes the end of the bed, pulls herself up with enough practice that she doesn't even pull the covers away. Of course, then she squishes herself against his side, buries her head somewhere in between his bicep and his ribcage, but at least her feet are pleasantly warm. His heart pounds in a way he hasn't felt in years, not since Alexis was young. Tiny fingers stroke patterns onto his shirt. "Where did Momma go?"

"She – she went home. To her own bed because she doesn't live here."

"Not yet?"

"Maybe." He replies, because right now his future with Kate is shakier than he can remember it ever being. He's not sure whether they'll even reach the stage before the supposed moving in.

"I like her apartment. It's good for hide and go seek."

"And mine isn't?"

"Not as much. Sorry."

He grumbles under his breath, his arm tightening around Mollie's body until his fingers are at her ribs and then he's tickling her until she's lying on top of him and breathless from laughter. He's missed this. The weight of someone small, reliant on them, who searches him out in the middle of the night when they can't sleep. He breathes in, deep, inhales the aroma of the vanilla laundry detergent that his future selves use. It's completely different from the sea breeze that he's used since… he can't even remember when he chose it. It's just been a constant part of his life. Maybe he should change it. He wriggles slightly, trying to get his hips into a comfier position but stops suddenly when Mollie whines against his chest. The quiet, regular breathing, the limp weight of her hand on the mattress, she's asleep again. Or close enough to it that he doesn't want to disturb her any more.

He uses one hand to arrange his pillows into as comfortable a position as he can get, wraps his other one around her back. He was tired. Exhausted. Tired of Kate, of arguing with Kate, of not being with Kate. But lying there in his bed with a girl who is his daughter, but isn't _his_ daughter… suddenly his eyes are wide open.

* * *

**tumblr:** sirmcsteamy

**twitter:** ktkatics


	4. Chapter 4

An elbow to the gut serves as his alarm clock, and it leaves him groaning into the pillow as his knees draw up into a defensive position. He's disorientated, confused, too close to sleep to make sense of his surroundings and when he uncurls his legs to try and stretch them out he's met with a wall of resistance. Wood and fluff and plastic eyes. Mollie's – why is he… oh. _Mollie._

"Kate?" It comes back to him in bits and pieces. Waking up to her not in bed, finding her here. Had they meant to fall asleep? He can't remember. But it must have been his wife scrambling over him that had left him with an aching stomach. She's always had pointy elbows, something that she passed onto Mollie, and he's always the one getting mauled by them. How many bruises to his rib cage over the years? He's lost count. Not that he cares right now, not when the phone outside in the hall is ringing and she's tripping over her own feet trying to reach it.

"Hello? Yeah, speaking." There's a tension filled pause where she listens to the guy on the other hand, and his heart is beating so fast against his rib cage he's certain it might break. "You found her?" Oh. Oh, thank – "Not exactly? What does that mean?" He's up on his feet now, ignoring the twinge in his right knee and the ache in his left hip and walking as he possibly can towards Kate. She's cradling the headset to the curve of her cheek so tight he's surprised it's not cracked. There's fear in her eyes, he knows that look far too well (though he wishes he didn't), but there's also that glimmer of hope. They can do something. "You know when she is. Right. We're going to get her." There's an angry burst of chatter, warning her against it, but he already knows that Kate isn't going to pay attention. They're going to get their daughter back. "No, I don't give a crap about protocol. I'm an NYPD Detective, she is my daughter, and we are going to go and get her whether you join us or not."

Kate hangs up, and then turns to him with a look of mischievousness in her eyes. "You might want to pack a bag."

* * *

_Ow_. Oh, pointy elbow. That's going to bruise. He sits up rubbing sleep out of his eyes in the dim morning light, his back complaining at the weird angle he fell asleep in. Was it the elbow waking him up? No. No, that's his phone going. One quick glance tells him it's Beckett, and he's tempted to just ignore it. Not today, Kate. Please, not today. But he can't help himself. "Beckett?"

"I was just… ringing up to check on everything. I'm sorry – I've woken you up. I'll – um, maybe speak to you later?"

"Yeah. Maybe. See you later." And then he's hanging up without a proper goodbye, and he hates himself for feeling guilty. This isn't his fault. It's not his doing. _She_ lied. Not him. He pushes the phone back onto the bedside and lies back down, aiming for more sleep and to wake up at a more human hour. But that's when everything becomes that little more clearer in his barely awake state.

"Is it breakfast time?" the voice is whispered, as if she's scared of breaking the nervous silence that surrounds them.

"Hm?"

"Breakfast. I'm hungry. Can we have pancakes?" The mop of her brown hair obscures his vision, arms pressing down on his rib cage. She's the one with the pointy elbows. Of course. Beckett elbows. He'd recognise them anywhere. Whatever seems to have upset her in the night is clearly no longer an issue. She seems as right as rain, bright eyed and looking at him like she's going to cause all sorts of trouble.

"Pancakes. Yeah. Sure. You'll have to get off of me though."

She's off him in a heartbeat, tiny feet making the bed shake and then she jumps to the floor and makes a dash for the kitchen. It takes him a while to actually force himself up off of the mattress, stumbles around for far to long in trying to find his dressing gown and a warm pair of socks, and by the time he joins his daughter who isn't his daughter she's already pulling the mixing bowl, and the fry pan out of the cupboards.

"You do this a lot?"

"Pancakes?"

"Drag stuff out of cupboards."

"You always take for_ever_ to get out of bed. So I help. Also I do the mixing. You do the cooking. I'm too young. Mum says when I'm ten she'll show me how to make _waffles._"

"Okay. Okay, you know how to make the pancake batter?" He shouldn't be leaving this with a five year old, but he's not thinking straight, and the girl seems to know what she's doing well enough.

Mollie is already tugging the milk out of the fridge and placing it by her feet. Soon followed by eggs, and then the flour. "I can do it. You don't have my table though."

"What?"

"I have my own table. Smaller. I can reach it. But you don't have it yet."

"The… you can use the coffee table. I'm… going to go for a really quick shower. Just to wake up. You'll be okay?"

"I promise not to do anything stupid. I already know. My memory is better than yours." She offers him a wide grin, one that is part Beckett, and one that he sees in Alexis on occasions and he's not entirely sure how to feel about it.

"My memory is perfectly fine, thank you. Don't be cheeky. And please don't make too much of a mess."

Mollie presses the bowl of the wooden spoon she's plucked from a jar to her forehead. "Aye, aye, sir."

* * *

The couple who had Jumped in the park are at the TTA when they get there almost an hour later. They're only young, college age, she's guessing, and the woman looks absolutely heart-broken about it. Rushes up to them with an expression torn apart by grief.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. We had no idea she would be there. We checked that there wasn't anyone in the area but she must have appeared so quickly – we didn't – we never meant for anything to happen to her."

Kate breezes past her without so much of an acknowledgement, leaving whatever the two has to say to her husband. She's too emotional, she's too unforgiving, and Castle is better at dealing with this. Kate's eyes are solely on the sergeant whose staring at a paper read out and muttering under his breath. "Where is she?"

"April, twenty twelve. We should have a more approximate date in about ten minutes."

"You don't know? I thought – you said you _knew_."

"Kate, you know this process isn't exactly precise. We asked Derek and Jane and they said they hadn't set an actual date. They just went back to that month. They never checked what date they actually Jumped to. But we can work it out. Just be patient."

"I-"

"Kate…" Castle's hand wraps around her bicep, tugs her away from the TTA official. "No use starting a fight."

She follows him, only slightly reluctantly, back to the array of tables that Castle has thrown all their stuff on. Jane is standing with her hands clasped in front of her, looking like she wants to spend the entire ten minutes they have to wait apologising profusely. Kate's not sure she wants to hear it, so she digs Dragon out of the front pocket of the backpack and sits there, fingers playing across the soft velvet of his head. She doesn't care about apologies. Doesn't care if they're sorry or not. Being sorry won't bring her daughter back free from harm.

"Where is she?" he asks, as soon as she's settled.

"April, twenty twelve." She reiterates, something unnerving settling in her chest. "Not the best time for us."

"We don't even know if past us are involved." Castle replies, keeping his voice low so the sergeant doesn't hear them. More than enough horror stories about people meeting their past selves. "They'll be okay."

"You sure? I think a five year old turning up at the doorstep would put a pretty big dent in whatever was left of whatever relationship we had."

"Well…"

"I don't know what this will do to us. I don't know, and I'm scared that it's going to ruin our future. That Mollie wouldn't be here, and I… I'd be…"

"You'd be?"

"I'd be dead. I would be dead because when I was hanging off that roof the only thing I had to hold on to was you. It was always you. If that – if I didn't – if I thought that it was over, that what we had was done, I'd be six feet under the ground with a gravestone as a pillow."

* * *

"This is against all protocol." Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Maybe the TTA have a special task force that deals with this kind of mishap, but Kate Beckett doesn't give a damn. "The only reason we're even letting you go is because of the amount of money you've put into this project."

"I don't care whether we put one dollar in. We'd go anyway."

"That I don't doubt. But at least this way you won't be arrested on your return." The sergeant means well, Kate knows. He's met Mollie so many times and he's just as concerned for the girls whereabouts as she is. But his job is also important, keeping people safe, keeping the technology they use at the TTA under control. If it wasn't them, if she wasn't an NYPD Detective and trained for any number of situations, the sergeant's feelings on this would be a whole lot different. It's only Castle's promise of more money to his boss that has him stopping from joining them. "Have you got everything?"

Castle has everything. Spare clothes for all three of them. Dragon. He has Dragon. The stuffed toy probably isn't necessary, it's not like she's planning on staying long when they find her. Certainly not long enough to warrant Mollie needing him to sleep. She hopes not anyway. Her husband comes up behind her, backpack swung over his shoulder, his gaze steely and determined.

"There's enough power in the Jumpers for five days. If you're not back by then we're stepping in."

"Fine."

"We're aiming to drop you relatively close to where she was, but you know there's no guarantees you'll end up in the right place."

"Yes, yes, we've been through this before."

"Don't do-"

"-anything stupid, and don't go looking for your past selves. Yes, I _know_." Kate interrupts, even though she's lying straight through her teeth. But he doesn't need to know that."Can we just go?"

He glares at her, but she gives as good as she gets, and eventually he sighs, followed closely by a single nod of the head."Five days. That's it."

He stops close to Castle, says something that Kate can't hear and then claps him on the back. Then he's gone, the pressurised door closing behind him with a soft hiss. Castle comes up behind her, threads his fingers through hers. She's angry, she's angry at Jane and Derek for being so completely and utterly reckless for Jumping in a public place. It's not exactly illegal, it's not like she can arrest them for it, but the TTA have always said they'd prefer it if people jumped in the safety in their own homes, where walls can stop anyone being caught in the crossfire.

"Jumping in ten, nine…"

"You ready?"

She nods, giving his hand a squeeze before he lets go. "six, five…" Can't have any physical contact with anyone during a Jump. Plans go awry, technology fails, and sometimes neither of you end up in the same place. The notion is similar to splinching, and even though TTA has their own technical term for it, every tends to refer to it as doing a Ron Weasley. No contact. Dragon safely in the backpack. Castle right behind her. She can feel his breath on her neck. "three, two…"

Kate takes a breath, lets it out slowly.

"One…"

It's not the first time she's done this, won't be the last, but she still hates the way it feels like she's shrinking into herself. She squeezes her eyes closed ignores the sound of white noise as it invades her senses, tickles her skin and assaults her ears, she can taste the energy on her lips. And then there's nothing, just for a moment, before she stumbles to a halt, falling to her knees. One knee lands on grass, soft damp mud that stains her jeans but the other hits concrete and she hisses as it scrapes her skin. She swears through it, low and under her breath, scouting her surroundings to see where Castle had gotten to. Only a few meters away, bent over with his arms on his knees. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just – knocks it out of you. Give me a minute."

She places a reassuring hand on his back until he straightens up, his back cracking in a rather alarming manner. "Central park. Early spring."

"Yeah. We made it."


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm away until Sunday. Probably won't be able to update for at least a week. Thank you for all the love for this, and for all the compliments and constructive criticism. I'm so glad you're all enjoying this. It means a lot.**

* * *

"What can I do today?" Mollie asks him, as he wipes the last of his maple syrup from his plate with a finger and she takes the easier route by licking her plate.

"I don't know…" he replies, sucking the sticky substance from his finger with a satisfied hum. "What do you want to do today?"

She pauses, purses her lips and taps her fingers on the table. "Can we go to Remy's?"

"You just had pancakes!"

"Well not _now_. But _later_." She huffs, staring at him like he is a complete dunderhead who said that two plus two equals twenty five. "I want a burger. And fries. And a strawberry milkshake. Just like Momma."

"Okay… so what about now? We could… go shopping, or to the park. Or we could break out the laser tag. I'm sure Alexis' old gear would fit you. Or maybe you could just watch TV."

"I could – I could watch TV and you can wash up and _then_ we go shopping because I don't have any clothes."

"I'm washing up?"

"Well _I_ made the pancakes! And also I can't reach the sink."

"Okay. How about I wash, and you dry. I'm sure you're small enough to fit on the sideboard. Then we'll go find you a whole new wardrobe, and we'll go to Remy's for fries, burgers and milkshakes. That sound fun?"

"Can I have a bath later? I feel all sticky and yucky and it's been two days already and I never go that long without having a bath."

"You're the first five year old I've met who likes having a bath."

"I get to have the bubbles. And the spaceship, and the boat. Like in Stardust – the flying boat – and they have an epic space battle up in the clouds – those are the bubbles – and you do really funny voices."

"_Okay. _Washing up, shopping, Remy's, and then bath. And then maybe we'll watch the real thing. And then time for bed. Agreed?"

She nods, and then slides from her chair, running for the sink the moment her bare feet hit the ground. "It's a date."

"Alright. You want to get dressed first, or after?"

"After." She calls over her shoulder. "Let's just get it over and done with."

He looks after her with a raised eyebrow, and then pushes himself away from the table, gathering up the plates and following her. "You are so your mother."

* * *

She swings on his arm as they walk. It's not far from the shops, not from the subway, but he keeps forgetting that New York for him is a completely new world for Mollie. Eight, nine years? He can't imagine what his city would be like in eight years. Alien, he thinks. But Mollie seems to be taking it all in her stride, looking around her with eyes as big as the pancakes they'd eaten this morning. She'd especially found the subway entirely magically and spent ten minutes asking why was it so _slow_. It's a question he can't answer, and it makes him wonder just how far technology has advanced in the next eight years.

"I want jeans. And some jumpers. Oh, and some shoes. And I need socks and underwear and can we get some t-shirts-"

"Do you think I'm made of money?"

Mollie narrows her eyes at him. "You are made of money."

"And you know that you're not actually going to be here for that long, right? Your fashion is entirely different from what it is now, and I have no use for them."

"But I need new clothes." She whines, pulling him over to a nearby shop. "Those shoes. I want those."

"Are you… sure?"

"Yes. Those, and _oh_ – _oh_ those ones too." They leave the shop with three pairs of shoes, and minus a hundred and ten dollars. He feels slightly disorientated. Mollie is a whirlwind when she gets going.

"So that's shoes-"

"Not enough shoes."

"We just bought _three_ pairs. How many pairs of shoes do you need?"

"Momma has at least five hundred pairs. And I'm not allowed to touch them or wear them or-"

"Well, your mother has a shoe fetish."

"What's a fetish?

"Oh – I'll – um tell you when you're older."

"Oh it's one of _those_ things. There's a lot of stuff I get to learn when I'm older. How older _is _older? Because I'm six next and that means school. Do they tell you at school?"

"Well – not the teachers. And not in kindergarten, or first grade, or third – maybe not until the eighth. Hopefully never."

"Why do _you_ get to know then?" she asks, but then he doesn't get an opportunity to answer owing to his daughter shrieking and dragging him over to yet another shop. "This shop isn't here in eight years. I want to look. And they have nice jeans. Hey, maybe you could get some new clothes."

"What's wrong with what I wear?"

"Momma has better clothes than you. We always go shopping together."

"With my money, I suppose?"

"No… mostly. Yes. But we only go once a month and it's _fun_."

"How much does your mother buy?"

"Not a lot…"

"Not a lot… being?"

"A few new pairs of shoes, and some new jackets, maybe. Sometimes a new coat, and some shirts and sometimes she buys these really _weird_ things that she says Daddy will _love_ but I never see her wearing it so I don't think he enjoys it as much as she thinks he will."

"Seriously?"

"Well you let her buy like _everything_. She still pays the rent on her apartment so he gives her money and clothes and stuff like that, he calls it being a sugar daddy, which is another thing they won't tell me until I'm older."

"Why does she keep her old apartment?"

"For parties. Me and Momma usually go when you're hosting a party, and we get in our pyjamas and there's popcorn and ice cream and we make a blanket fort out of momma's mattress and we stay up late watching funny films. And then when we get home the house is a mess and you're overhung-"

"Hungover." He hurriedly corrects, hurriedly guiding Mollie away from the massive display of shoes. "I – he – would be hungover."

"That too. Ooh, Momma would like these shoes." And he's being dragged back again. "Can we buy Momma these shoes?"

"I – um – which version?"

"My momma?"

"So, the one in eight years. Not the one I know."

"Well I know all the pairs of shoes that my Momma owns and she doesn't have these so you couldn't have given them to the Momma you know _now_ so I have to give them to _my _Momma."

"That's… rational thinking. You watch a lot of sci-fi shows?"

"Me and Momma have Nebula 9 marathons. Also me and Daddy watch a lot of space shows like Doctor Who and Star Trek and Star Wars and Stargate and-"

"You're five years old. They let you watch that?"

"Some bits I'm not allowed to watch, Momma puts her hands over my eyes and makes the TV all quiet so I can't hear it, and Daddy always laughs at her because Momma loves that show and you say she loves it more than she loves _you_ – but that's just silly because Momma loves you more than she loves her wardrobe and she loves her wardrobe a _lot_. "

"She does?"

"_Yes_. I think sometimes she loves me mostest though."

"You're sure your mother is Kate Beckett? Homicide Detective? For the NYPD?"

"_Yes_," she's insisting again, "and I really want to buy my Momma a present, can we get her a present?"

"Sure. Present. These ones, did you say?"

* * *

He hasn't been this surrounded by shopping bags since his daughter – Alexis – his daughter Alexis – wasn't old enough to shop by herself. But then she turned fourteen, and she had her allowance directly into her bank accounts and since then he hasn't been needed. At least, not unless the object of her desire was something overly expensive. But he's never been here with Alexis, never found this place until she was fifteen. He's surrounded by shoes and shirts and trousers and somehow jewellery and then more shoes. There goes his last book deal. Spent on clothes that aren't even going to be worn for more than a day. Maybe two. He hopes it's not more than that. He's not sure how much longer he can do this.

"Are you going to eat your burger?" Mollie asks him around the bunch of fries and ketchup that she pushed into her mouth ten seconds earlier.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

She chews forcefully, swallows and then stares at him. "You should eat."

"You're five years old and you're lecturing me about food?"

"Auntie Lanie says you should never, ever skip a meal because it's bad for you. Usually she glares at Momma because Momma keeps skipping meals when she's busy or stressed or she gets called out on a case and she just keeps drinking coffee over and _over_ and _over_-"

"Okay, yes she does drink a lot of coffee. But-"

"It'll go cold."

She grins at him, charming and infuriating and every bit her mother.

* * *

"_Castle_." Hm? "_Castle_, come _on_."

"What's – sleep – I'm asleep… no, m'wake 'm awake"

"Oh jeez, why are you so hard to wake up?" There's a foot – socked – no shoes – digging into his rib cage and he pushes it away with a grunt. "Somebody is robbing your life size bobba fett cut-out."

He sits up with his heart racing, head twisting around until his vision clears. "Kate?"

"Hello."

"Why are you – how did you get in here?"

"I used my key." She's holding up a fob, black and familiar. But he knows he's never given Kate a key to his loft. He's always been there every time she's here. She's never needed one.

"Your… key – you don't have a key. Why do you have a key? And why are you in the loft at… at three in the morning?"

"I have a key because I _live_ here. Will live here. And I'm here to get my daughter. She is here, right? Please tell me she's here because I can't keep the thoughts out of my head that she's out on the streets somewhere-"

"Mollie? She's – she's upstairs. She's fine – but – but – you're –"

"Mollie's mother, yes. But she's okay? She's not hurt or anything?"

"No she's perfectly fine. Managed to wheedle me into spending half of my bank account on clothes she doesn't really need. Oh, and she bought you shoes."

"She did? Yeah, she's like that. She's very… demanding. But she's a good kid."

"Yes, but – is this – I'm not dreaming right. Like you're not just a figment of my imagination?"

"I just kicked you, didn't I? I'm gonna turn the light on."

"'kay. I'm – just do it. I've braced myself. Just get it over with."

"Oh, quit being such a baby." His room floods with light which isn't all that bright really, just his bedside lamp, but it makes him squint regardless. "Wow."

Kate narrows her eyes at him. Like mother, like daughter. "What?"

"You look… different."

"A kid and eight years will do that to you, Castle."

"I never said you looked bad." He grumbles, suddenly defensive, caught completely off guard by the fact Kate Beckett has suddenly appeared in his bedroom. She's never been in his bedroom.

"I never said you did." She replies, light and easy, and with a smile that makes his heart ache. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I just – I needed to make sure Mollie was okay."

"She's in the spare bedroom. You can go see her, if you want."

"No, if she's asleep I'll wait until morning." She runs a hand through her hair, her own defence mechanism. It's shorter than he remembered, shoulder length, and she hasn't done anything with it. Not like the almost hour she spends in front of the mirror every morning. Must be hard with a five year old. "Go back to sleep, Castle. I'll kip on the couch." She's gone again, leaving him in darkness apart from the distant orange glow of the lamps outside.

"Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here."

* * *

**tumblr: **sirmcsteamy

**twitter: **ktkatics_  
_


	6. Chapter 6

Kate is halfway through her second glass of red when she's pulled from her melancholic state by a gentle knocking at her front door. She's half tempted to ignore it, pretend she's asleep, or out, or in the shower, or something that doesn't involve any kind of public interaction.

"Kate, I know you're in there. I can smell the Chinese."

So much for that idea. Shooting the offending carton of crispy Sichuan beef a glare she pushes herself up off of the sofa. It's late, and she should sleep, but Kate recognises the voice, knows that no matter what the pull of sleep is, or how tired she is, the pull of him is always going to be stronger. She does wonder why he's here, it's late, and surely Mollie should be asleep. She pulls open the door with a half smile, one that falters slightly when she sees that it isn't exactly who she thought it was. But at least he smiles at her.

"Hello, Kate."

"You're… grey."

"I know, right? Kate says I look distinguished. Very refined." Kate opens her mouth, mostly to disagree, because if anything Castle is, then it is neither distinguished, nor refined. "Okay," he continues, "_I_ think it makes me look distinguished and refined. You think I should dye it?"

"I – why are you here? Surely you'd…"

"Want to go and see Mollie? It's fine, Kate's there. Anyway, she'll be asleep. I came to talk to you." He breezes past her, much like his past self, walks into her apartment like he's completely at home here. Maybe he is. Or was, at some point. Will be? This whole thing makes no sense to her.

"Why? Why do you want to talk to me?" she questions, closing the door behind him, and then turning to Castle, her hands dug deep into the pockets of her hooded jumper. "You hate me. Or something. I don't know what it is, I don't know what's going through your mind right now, but you're supposed to…."

"Love you? I married you, Kate. I don't think _hate_ is the right word."

"Well, you're certainly acting like it right now. Not you, but, the … other you."

"I think he's justified, if you ask me."

"I wasn't asking, but you would agree. You're the same person. I suppose it would be nice to know _why_ he's acting so strange. Don't suppose you fancy telling me?"

"Have you tried asking him?"

"I – well… not… exactly. But every time I try and talk to him he just pushes me away, fobs me off with some two word answer that doesn't explain anything. I can't think of any other way to get whatever it is that's bothering him, out of him."

"You could be… you know, direct. Ask him what you did."

"So it was something I did?"

"Can you seriously not think about what it could be?"

"If I knew what it was then I wouldn't be in this predicament, would I?"

"Fine." He leans back against the sofa, arms folded. "Let's see if I can jog your memory. Bobby Lopez. You remember him?"

"Bobby – he, he was the… a suspect in the bombing at the protest. He picked up the backpack, but then he dropped it again. If he'd left it where he was the explosion wouldn't have been so bad."

"Yep. Keep going."

"Keep going?"

"The interrogation. Go through the interrogation."

"Um, he… we thought he was the one who placed the bomb. He had the bag, he put it by the post, it seemed like an easy catch. I asked him what he knew, and he said he couldn't remember anything. He said the trauma of the blast made him… forget."

"And then you said…"

"I… said, he didn't get to use that excuse."

"And why didn't he get to use that excuse?"

Oh god. She feels sick. Presses the back of her hand to her mouth in either shock or a vain attempt at keep her stomach where it belongs. Why didn't she see it before? There had been coffee on her desk. Coffee from Castle. She knew he'd been there whilst she'd been in the box, but she just hadn't put two and two together. It all makes so much sense. "Because I was… shot in the chest and I…" He mouths it along with her, word for word, and inclines his head when she trails off.

"…and I…"

"Remember every second of it. He heard. He heard me." She presses the palm of her hand into her forehead, screws her eyes up tight and trying to swallow down the churning worm of guilt and terror that is churning in her stomach.

"Bingo. Does it all make sense now?"

"I need to talk to him. I need to make things right – if he's angry that I lied – I need to apologise. Even if he really does want to leave and walk away, I need to at least say sorry. I never meant to hurt him. I never meant to hurt you."

"I know that. At least, I do now. But he doesn't. And it's not just that you lied. Past me thinks you lied because you didn't want to deal with his feelings, with any awkward situation that would arise from it, because you didn't feel the same as he does." Kate isn't listening, not properly, she's pulling her coat from the hooks, shrugging into onto her shoulders. "Er, what are you doing?"

"Er – I'm going to go … and talk to Castle."

"It's three in the morning." He replies, standing up, and taking a step towards her. She thinks he's going to make a grab for her, to stop her from going. "Everyone will be asleep."

"You're here at that time. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I just time travelled. I have time lag."

Kate rolls her eyes. Grabs her keys and her phone and drops them into various pockets, looks at her gun. Doesn't think she'll need it. She shouldn't need it. With the gun she's Detective Beckett, cool, hard-hitting and with a very firm grip on her emotions. Without it, she's just Kate Beckett. A woman, who may or may not have made a mistake, who loves a man, who needs to make amends for the pain she's caused. That's who she's going as. "That's – that's not a thing."

"Sure it is. You can't go. He's not going to be entirely reciprocating if you wake him up half way through his beauty sleep. And he's probably going to be weirded out because of Mollie, anyway. I mean, how often does a girl come back from the future and claiming to be your daughter? Especially a daughter with a woman you think is only leading you on."

"I' m not leading him on!-"

"I know, Kate, but he doesn't."

"-and he seems to be handling Mollie perfectly fine."

"It would appear so. You're the one freaking out. Kate was right."

"I – she – what about?"

"That you wouldn't stay. You wouldn't be there. She said you'd freak out, assume that Castle was playing a joke, or it was one of the boys."

"It's – it's not that. Castle doesn't – he didn't want me there. He's made that obvious that he doesn't want anything to do with me. I didn't want Mollie to be in the middle of that. Castle is an amazing father. Mollie would have been perfectly fine without me."

"You're an amazing mother too, you know. Mollie worships the ground that you walk upon."

"I'm sure, but I'm not her mother. I'm not fit enough to be in any kind of relationship, let alone raise a child."

"Have more faith in yourself, Kate. You're closer to being ready than you think you are. He's waited for you for this long, explain yourself to him, properly, and maybe he'll wait some more."

"He has to. He has to, right, because you're married and you have a future – you have Mollie. That's my future. That's … my future, right?"

He looks horribly uncertain. A look that doesn't exactly fill Kate with confidence. "I – don't know. I mean, you must have seen all the films with the warnings. You change one bit of your past, your history, you change your future."

"Step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race…"

"Yes. So, if you and Castle don't work things out…"

"Mollie would essentially cease to exist. Your daughter… jeez, that's a lot of pressure."

"As much as I love Mollie, as much as I love my wife, you can't force Castle to do anything. If you get him to forgive you, that's wonderful, if you can't… it's not like I'll remember them. At least, not Mollie."

Kate tugs at her hair, paces back and forth with a look of anguish that seems to mirror the guilt that is tearing her apart inside. "This just got a lot worse. This is a so lot worse than I thought, this is-"

"Well, the sooner we get over there, the sooner we'll know. Are we just going to sit around and anticipate the worst, or are we going to go?"

* * *

"Which one of us is knocking?"

"Knocking? I figured we'd just use my key." He holds up a key chain, at least three different car keys that Kate doesn't recognise, and the black fob that resembles his front door key. "You know, since I live here. Technically."

He pushes open the door, gestures for her to go ahead of her. The room is dark, the only light coming from upstairs. Something – a huddled mass of blankets rises up from the sofas that makes Kate stumble slightly. "Whossat?"

It's just her. Older, future her. Asleep on a couch. Why is she asleep on the couch? "Where's Castle?"

"He's… right behind you?"

"No – _my_ Castle."

"Asleep, last time I checked."

"No, he's not. God, you guys talk loud." His focus turns on Kate, his gaze cold and calculating. "Why are you here?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Now? It's almost four in the morning."

"It's important. Please, Castle, I know – I know I don't – you have every right to tell me to leave, I know that, but can I just try to explain?"

"There's nothing to explain, Beckett." He starts to turn away, heading back to his bed and away from her.

"_Rick_." He stops, but he still doesn't look at her. "Please." Castle looks from his future self, to his so called future wife, but they're giving him nothing. Instead, they seem to be communicating silently between themselves, using some subtle expressions and not so subtle finger jabbing. "Castle, I know I lied. To you. I know I did, and I'm _sorry_, I really am but you need to just let me explain why.."

"Why should I? I have given you seven, eight months to explain yourself. I have been with you, for four years _waiting_, and what if I've waited long enough? What if I'm fed up of waiting, of believing that one day we'd actually be something more than work partners? You lied, Beckett, you openly _lied_-"

A cough interrupts him, and all three of them turn towards the future version of Kate. Future Castle almost winces, looks like he knows what his wife is about to say and is dreading every moment after. "Don't get me wrong, you have every right to be upset with her, but need I remind you that she is not the only one who has, not necessarily lied, but withheld vital information? If Kate needs to be honest, then so do you."

Kate's head snaps from Castle, over to her future self, and then back again. "What does she mean? Castle, what - tell me what she means." Castle isn't looking at her. Well, he is. But future her. And she can't explain that look. He's hurt, he's wounded, betrayed, but he also looks busted. And then his shoulders sag. Defeat. He's completely, and utterly defeated. "Castle?"

"We're going to go upstairs. This is between you two."

Kate almost asks herself to stay, to have someone in her defence, but she's quiet. Watches with baited breath as Kate pulls something out of a bag, something small and black with eyes. She recognises it, vaguely, something from a film, maybe. The other woman gives her a look, something full of reassurance, of power, makes a small amount of hope blossom in her chest. Then they're disappearing into the dim glow of upstairs to their daughter.

"Kate?" His voice is quiet, and unsure, and whatever hope there was is soon replaced by fear. She doesn't know what it is Castle has been hiding from her, but she can see what it's done to him. "Maybe we should talk."

* * *

Kate almost cries when she sees the sleeping form of her daughter. She knew she was safe, knew from the moment Castle had told her that Mollie was perfectly fine, unhurt, and was actually enjoying her adventure, but she'd missed her. Missed her cheeky smile, her constant talking, the incessant questioning. Castle squeezes her hand behind her. "I think it's bedtime."

There's a faint stirring from the bed, the slight noises from Mollie's mouth pulling her out of her sleep. "Daddy?"

"Hey, little monkey. Didn't mean to wake you."

"I missed you."

"I missed you too. Hey, guess who is here too. And she's got something for you."

Mollie struggles up into a sitting position, her hair in disarray and blinks through the haze of sleep. "Momma! Momma, we went shopping today and we bought you some new shoes."

"So I've heard. You'd make an excellent living from swindling people out of their money, but please don't do that, because I'd hate to arrest you."

"I'm going to look after elephants. Or maybe an astronaut, or maybe I'll be a physician, or the president-"

"You can be whatever the heck you want to, Mollie." Castle interrupts, as he tugs off his shirt. "But right now, what you need to be, is asleep. We even bought you Dragon."

"Dragon!"

Kate throws back the covers of one side of the bed, slides in next to her daughter and then ceremoniously hands over the stuffed animal to her daughter. "Flew all the way from home, just because he missed you almost as much as we did."

Mollie cradles the toy to her chest, her eyes closing in obvious happiness. It seems that' is all that's needed to send the girl straight back to sleep, and she ends up slumped against her mothers chest, arms tight around Dragon. Kate presses a soft kiss to Mollie's forehead and pulls the covers up around them again. "Room for one more, if you want."

* * *

**tumblr**: sirmcsteamy

**twitter**: ktkatics


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm so sorry this has taken so long to be published. I was torn between making it happy, and angsty (which is unusual for me, because I love me some angst, and will most likely choose that option) and then after that I just wasn't happy with anything that I wrote. Still not overly happy with it, so I'm sorry this isn't up to scratch. I'm going to try and get everything except the epilogue up before I go on holiday, which is about two weeks today. So two, maybe three more chapters? I don't know.**

**But, whilst I am here, I just want to say thank you to absolutely everyone who has reviewed, favourited, followed (both me and the story), I never really expected this amount of love for this, and really I'm kind of shocked. So, thank you. To all of you. You're all five kinds of awesome, and you should give yourselves a pat on the back from me.**

* * *

Kate's staring at him. Apologetic and accusatory all at the same time. Well, if one person was going to manage the two together, it would be her. He gestures to the sofa, the one her future self just abandoned. "You… want to sit?"

The blankets are still warm, and he watches as she fists her hands in the soft material as she tries to prepare herself what what's going to happen. For what he's going to say, for what she's going to admit. For any potential fallout. "What did she mean?"

"Kate-"

"_What_ did she _mean_?"

No. No, he's done enough waiting for Kate before, he's not doing it again. "I'll explain later. After. You first."

She looks like she's about to argue, the flicker of her eyes a tell tale sign of the irritation that's brimming below the surface. But it's easily replaced by that softer look, the one that he's half noticed her giving him in the past few months. "Okay… where do you want me to start?"

"I just want to know why."

"Because I wasn't ready. And I was scared. And I needed time to process what happened. The shooting, everything with Montgomery. I needed to just work through stuff, but I didn't – I never meant to hurt you. I was trying to just get into a place where I could accept everything. Everything that happened that day. I didn't mean for you to find out the way you did, and I never meant to hurt you."

"It would have hurt whenever you told me, surely you would have realised that. Seven months, Kate. You really think I would have just brushed it off?"

"No, I knew it would hurt, and you have every right to be angry, I just didn't want it to go like that. I wanted to be able to tell you, properly, in person, and explain. It wasn't because I don't feel the same, it's because I do and I wanted to be better. For me, and for you."

"So… you don't _not_ …like me."

She laughs, her hair tipped forwards until it hangs in a curtain around her. He's itching to reach over and push it back behind her ear, an urge he has to stifle at least three times every day. Maybe she wouldn't kill him if he tried it. He would, however, say it was more of a snort , but he's almost certain that if he said that, then she would shoot him. "If that's what you want to call it, yes. When I said I couldn't be in the relationship that I wanted until I put everything behind me…"

"Was that just a very big hint?"

"It may have been." She replies with a smile, twisting her body towards him, her knees pressing into his thigh. "But Castle – just – I don't know how ready I am for this. For us. I mean – I know we're upstairs and it's our daughter and surely we must work out eventually. I want you, Castle. I want you but I don't know how good I'm going to be at this, and I'm scared that all I'll do is mess this up. And I don't want to mess this up."

"Well, before you fret over whether you're going to mess it up, I suppose it's my turn." He stands up, taking a moment to steady himself before he turns and holds out his hand. He's not sure why he does it, not even sure if she wants it, but his heart stutters slightly when she folds her own hand within his. There's deep seated anxiety that settles deep in his gut when he leads her into his office, she's so close to him, he can smell cherries and vanilla, and when he comes to a stop by the screen in his office she still doesn't leave the proximity. Her sleeve is brushing his as she waits for his next move. There's no use delaying it any further, so he reaches over and flicks the on switch. It lights up within moments, the image of Kate Beckett drawing a stuttered gasp from the real life version beside him.

"Castle, what is this?"

"It's… your case."

"My… the shooting?"

"With parts of your mothers, yes."

"Why? How do you have all of this?"

"After you were shot, I received a phone call from a man call Smith. Montgomery had sent him a file before he died. A file that has incriminating evidence against the person who is behind this."

"You have a name?" It's almost frantic, the way her head twists to him, and it scares him. Just how quickly she can change from Kate Beckett, woman, to Kate Beckett, nineteen year old who just lost her mother. Kate to Detective Beckett in nought point three seconds flat.

"No. He wouldn't tell me."

"I need that file."

"Kate, _no_. Smith has enough pull with this guy that they made a deal. You can't investigate. You can't look into it. Anything. If you do, this guy won't stop until you're dead. That's why Smith rang me. He needed someone to make sure that you weren't looking into it."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know. I don't want to know."

"But he has leads?" Her voice is quiet. Quiet, but hopeful, and he hates that he's taking this away from her. This is what she's been building her whole career towards, she's staked her life, and others, on this.

"Even if he told you, there's no way you can get this guy. When they said you woke the dragon, they meant it, Kate. There's not a lot that this guy won't do, hell, he even tried to frame the mayor."

"What? That was him? Why the hell would he frame him?"

"If he loses his position, I have no pull. Gates can kick me out and I can't do a damn thing about it. With me gone, who would stop you?"

Kate stares at him, eyes wide. She's scared, she's terrified, so close to falling down that rabbit hole again. And he doesn't know if he'd be able to get her out. The next thing he would know and she'd be back in the newspaper, but not because she survived a bullet, but because she didn't.

"I don't know what to do."

"Nothing. You do absolutely nothing."

"_Castle_-"

"Listen to me, okay. You don't want to mess this up, fine, here's the deal. You touch that file, your case, or your mothers case, then I'm done. No more partners, no more… whatever we're going to do. It's done. I love you, Kate. I tried my hardest not to, I tried to move on, and it's damn near impossible because I am _so_ in love with you and I would do almost anything for you, but I am not standing around waiting for another bullet. I will not watch you throw your life away."

She opens and closes her mouth, caught between the answers she's been searching for the past sixteen years, and the man she loves. If she chooses the case over Castle, if he walks away from her, that would mean everyone upstairs – their happiness, their marriage, their _daughter_ – it would cease to exist. Mollie would just… she can't do that to them. To herself, to Castle. She can't do that to him. "Delete it."

"What?"

"Delete it. Get rid of it."

"Really?"

"_Yes_." He takes a step towards the screen, arm outstretched to drag the file towards the trash can. Quick and easy. Just like that. "No – wait. Can I – I want to do it. I need to do it." She places a hand on his arm, effectively stopping him. He turns his head to her, and then steps sideways. And then… it's gone. Just like that.

"Now what?"

"I… don't know. What do you want to do?"

"Me? I want to go back to sleep."

"You should go. Go on, go back to bed."

"What about you?"

"Sofa. Good enough for me before." Castle opens his mouth to suggest something, but he closes it again. However, Kate being a detective, she notices. "What?"

"Well, it's just that there's room in my bed. If you wanted to, I mean. I'm not trying to be too forward here, I'm not expecting anything – not that I'd – I mean if you _wanted_ to – but the sofa is not exactly comfortable and…"

"Castle…"

"No, it's fine – I mean we've only just sorted things out and I can understand if you don't, taking things slow, I can do that."

"Castle."

"Yeah?"

"_Shut up_."

Her lips are on his before he has a chance to think properly, has barely enough time to process it before there's one hand carding through his hair and another gripping at his waist through his t-shirt. His hands seek Kate out, one at the small of her back, the other coming to rest at the sharp jut of her jaw, thumb finding place at her cheekbone. It's not like their first kiss, it's not as frenzied, not as hurried, there's no desperation behind it. Kate hums into his mouth, something small and happy that he wants to lock up inside of him and keep it safe for as long as she'll let him. Then she's pulling away, but not far, and he chases after her, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. If the tiny moan that reverberates in her throat has anything to go by, he's not sure she minds.

"Castle…" she murmers, fingers splayed at his cheek. "I – this is _nice_, but I can't… not now. Not yet."

"That's okay. We can just sleep."

"I'm going to sleep on the couch."

"I'm offended."

"It's not you."

"You just won't be able to keep your hands off me." Her smile, the blush in her cheeks, tells him he's not entirely far from the truth."You'll be okay on the couch?"

"Yeah, Castle. I'll be fine."

"Pyjamas?"

"I'll see what's in the bags. There's bound to be something I can wear."

"Okay." Except he doesn't want to let her go. It's late, and he's sure the dawn is only minutes away from breaking on the horizon, and the shopping and carrying the bags around has completely worn him out. Except neither of them seem to be moving. "Kate…"

"Okay. I'm – going. To sleep."

"Mmhm."

"So are you."

"Sleep. Yes."

She purses her lips, her nose wrinkling up, and it's absolutely adorable. He can't help but kiss her again, hands cradling her head, fingers in her hair, she opens her mouth to him, needy and – breathless – and -"Castle, I – we – need to not do that."

"Sorry."

"Are you?"

"Umm… no, not really." He removes his hands from her, digging them deep into his pockets. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. Today. Later."

She nods at him, and she's not even trying to contain her smile, and then reaches up to press a light kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight, Castle."

* * *

"Okay, you gotta be quiet. Just for a while. People are still asleep."

"I know, Mamma." Mollie whispers back, "I'll be super duper quiet. Like a mouse."

"Waffles?"

"With Nutella. And whipped cream."

"I suppose you deserve a treat after everything. Why don't you go and find a book to read while I get them ready. I'm sure there's going to be something on the bookshelves."

Mollie nods and scampers off in the direction of the study, but she stops by the couch instead. "You're here!"

"What?"

She points at something that Kate can't see, but there's a definite grin. "You left, but now you're back. And asleep on the sofa."

"I am?" Kate drops the bowl she'd been holding on the counter, rounds the counter until she's standing behind her daughter. Her past self, is fast asleep on the couch in the same heap of blankets she'd set up for herself only a few hours previously. "So I am. She must have stayed after last night. Which is good news, right?"

"Is it?"

"Yes. How are you feeling?"

"Hungry."

Kate stifles a yawn with a brief laugh, trying to tamp down on the anxiety that her daughter, her marriage, her love for her family, all rests on her past self trying to fix that which went wrong. And Castle's past self for forgiving her. Forgiving each other. Their past is in the past now, a barrier they got past more or less together, to become better. And now she's fighting it again. "Well, if you start to feel ill, or sick, tell me, okay?"

"I will. But why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything's fine. Come on, you can tell me your own story while I cook."

* * *

**twitter: **ktkatics

**tumblr: **sirmcsteamy


	8. Chapter 8

Castle sleeps for longer, and better than he has in… months. Through the stress of working with Kate, of trying to keep her safe, the early mornings, the late nights, the constant _thinking_, it all took its toll and he never truly realised. But this morning, or maybe it's early afternoon, either way, he's never felt better. He even walks out of his bedroom with what could possibly be defined as a spring in his step. Kate is still asleep on the sofa, blankets tucked up around her chin, eyes closed to the world. She doesn't look like she's planning on waking any time soon, so he skirts the furniture and heads towards the kitchen counter where the future Kate sits, with her shorter hair and her fuller figure, head bowed over an empty plate.

"Morning sleeping beauty." She sings out, which makes him falter in his steps. He's not used to… pet names, or nicknames, or anything about that sentence.

"I-hello. Morning. Is it only morning?"

She glances down at her wrist, her father's watch still recognisable after all these years, although maybe a bit more bruised and battered than he's used to. "Morning for another seven minutes."

"Do you have eyes in the back of your head?"

"No," she laughs, turning around on the stool and giving him one of her brilliant grins, "I've just lived with you for seven years. You get used to it."

"Obviously."

"So?"

"So… what?"

"Last night. How did it go?"

"We talked."

"And then I slept on the sofa."

"Nothing happened."

"Oh, I know. I wouldn't be sleeping on a sofa if it had. But is everything okay? Like you're not…"

"It's your past, right? They're your memories, so surely you'd know?"

"It doesn't work like that. Memories don't change straight away, and nothing is instantaneous. You change something in your past, it's like ripples on a pond, only through time. Or an earthquake. Quicker towards the epicentre, but they slow out the further away you get, right?"

He nods as he takes the seat next to her, elbow propping his chin up as he watches her. She's so different to the Kate he knows and is used to, and yet, she's completely the same. "I don't remember what happened between the two of you last night, neither does Castle. Everything's different for us, we don't … reconcile for maybe another two months. That's all I remember, hanging off a roof, swing sets and thunderstorms. It'll change, eventually, I hope."

"You hope… wait, wait, go back. Hanging off a rooftop?"

She shakes her head at him. "Future. _Her_ future. Maybe. I don't know, now it might not come to that. But you can't change it."

"You changed this. Us. Me and Kate."

"It would have worked out regardless. It just happened a bit earlier. It doesn't matter."

"Okay, but why are you hoping that it will change? Is there a reason why it wouldn't?"

"If you two don't work out, yes. If you and her don't make it, us in the future have to watch our lives disintegrate in front of us. You'll barely notice it at first. Maybe a headache, you forget things that happened, things happened that you don't remember. All your memories will change. Some days it'll be like normal, you'll wake up next to your husband, you'll get your daughter ready, you'll go to work. Other days, you'll wake up in apartment for one with takeaway Chinese for dinner and a thirst for vengeance that won't stop unless the person you're after is dead, or you're lying on the floor with a bullet in your chest. Slowly but surely, the other days take over until what you knew – what you thought your life was – is gone, and everything with it."

"That's… not like it is in the films."

"No, it's not. There's a tonne of horror stories of people who have messed with their past only to get back home and find that their whole world is being ripped apart from the inside out."

"I – you know I can't promise that we won't screw anything up. I can't promise that we'll work everything out to the extent that you guys have."

"Well you have to damn try. Don't cut corners, don't let each other get away with stupid stuff. Be better for each other." She throws a glance towards the back of the sofa, to the still asleep detective. "She loves you, you know… personally, I don't understand how you came to the conclusion we didn't feel the same. Did you not notice the constant looking like a love sick puppy?" He can't come up with a reasonable argument to that, but Kate carries on regardless. "She won't tell you. Not yet, but she does. She's just scared that she's going to mess this up."

"I know. We're just going to take it slow. Let Kate get to a place where she feels… confident enough, where she's comes to terms with it all. But now I know there's something worth waiting for, I don't mind."

"Good. That's good."

"You're still worrying about Mollie."

She laughs, and tugs a hand through her hair. "I used to think you were just being overly paranoid about Alexis when she was younger, and yet, now I completely understand."

"Well I never had to worry about Alexis completely disappearing from my life. I think you're entitled to be worried about it…" he trails off, the sudden flash of… something on Kate's face alerting to him. Scared. Worried. He can't quite pin it. "What?"

"Nothing."

"That was a look. I mentioned Alexis disappearing and you – that – is she okay?"

"She's fine, Castle."

"Kate-"

"_Believe _me. Your daughter is one hundred percent okay. She's more than okay, she's… look, I really shouldn't be showing you this…" she's sliding off of the stool, and crossing over to where her jacket is slung over the back of an armchair, and digging her purse out of a pocket before returning to him. Then, she's pulling a folded up piece of paper and handing it to him.

He unfolds it with trembling hands, unsure of what he's going to find. "Oh… oh, this is…" He's used to grainy, grey ultrasounds, but the image he's holding in his hands seems to be a lot more high tech. There's more definition. He can see the nose, the tiny hands, even the fingers. So much detail. "I'm… she's… I'm a granddad?"

"You will be. She's married. He's called Neal, and he's a property developer. And he absolutely dotes on her. I can't tell you anything about the future, I shouldn't have told you half the things I have, and we've broken about five TTA rules just by us being here. We're happy, that's all you need to know."

"Would we be attacked by giant bat like creatures if we touched ourselves. Which I didn't mean to sound as dirty as it did."

"No, you will not get attacked by giant bats. This isn't Doctor Who."

"Okay, fine. No more questions about the future. But, speaking of my ruggedly handsome self, where am I? And where's Mollie?"

"Castle wanted to reminisce, Mollie wanted to explore. It's funny, how much a city can change in just a few years. Even this place looks almost unrecognisable."

"I suspect it's a lot messier where you come from."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"So… how long until you decide to go back? Not that I'm not enjoying your company or anything, and Mollie is an absolute treasure, but…"

"We could go whenever. We have five days from when we left to be back again, otherwise the TTA will come looking for us, and we'll be in so much trouble I'll be lucky to see Mollie's sixth birthday from outside a jail cell. Maybe tomorrow, late tonight."

"My mother and Alexis are back from the spa tomorrow."

"We'll go today. Later. Explaining it to you guys was easy enough, but trying to explain it again… I don't think that would work."

"Maybe not."

"I think I'm going to go back to bed. I didn't get much sleep last night, and Mollie wanted breakfast early. You don't mind, do you?"

"Me, no, it's fine. Go sleep for however long you want. I have writing to do."

"This better not end up in one of your books."

"No, no, it won't. I kind of… put Nikki and Rook in a…I was in a bad mood. They took the brunt of it."

"Nothing changes there then." She pats him on the arm as she leaves, trying to suppress a yawn as she makes her way upstairs.

He thought he was hungry when he woke up, was lured into the kitchen by the idea of bacon and eggs and maybe potato waffles, but now, now his fingers are itching for his laptop keys and a major editing of his latest few chapters.

* * *

It's not the bed she's used to, and definitely not the ceiling , and the light is different from her apartment . Oh. Castle's loft. Right. Slept on the sofa because she didn't trust herself not to jump him if she had stayed in his bed. Sitting up, she rubs at the back of her neck, trying to get rid of the kinks. Everything is so quiet, but listening closely, she can hear the clicking clacking sound of fingers on a keyboard. The floor is cold on her bare feet, but she braves it as she walks towards his office. She doesn't particularly want to disturb him when he's in the zone, as he likes to call it, but she just wants to make sure that they're still okay. As it is, as she walks in through the door, he greets her with on of those smiles, the one that is usually reserved for his mother, or Alexis, and she can't help but smile back.

"You were out like a light." He says, his gaze back on the screen, but his attention, at least partially, is still on her. "You sleep okay?"

"Yeah, I just must have been more tired than I thought."

"Last night was… eventful, I don't blame you. You want some lunch, or something?"

"Um," she tugs a hand through her hair, trying to get rid of the tangles of her bed head, or rather, sofa head, "actually, can I use your shower?"

* * *

He'd worn Mollie out. She's a heavy weight in his arms, head on his shoulder and arms loose around his neck. The loft is oddly quiet, no sign of his wife, future wife, and past self (and that's a sentence he never thought he'd say). Mollie stirs in his arms, mumbles something about porcupines into his neck before settling down again. He drops his bag on the counter, a movie that he wanted back home but couldn't find anywhere, and makes his way towards the stairs. It's not long before he finds Kate asleep, and not in some of her pyjamas, but _his_ shirt. If he didn't find it so hot he might have found it in him to complain.

"Babe?"

"I'm gonna stick Mollie with you, that okay?"

"Mm, yeah. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Just tired. You okay?"

Her quiet, mostly happy hum lets him know all he needs to, and he carefully lowers Mollie next to her mother, tugging the blankets up over her. She barely noticed anything. Kate hooks her arm around his neck and pulls him towards her and he has to brace himself against the bed so he doesn't fall on top of his daughter. He's almost distracted by the lazy movement of Kate's mouth against his, the way she's not entirely awake yet, but Mollie is right there.

"Kate…"

"Mm, I know." She bites down on his lip in goodbye, not particularly hard, her fingers tangled at the nape of his neck and then she's as out of it as their daughter.

* * *

**tumblr: **_sirmcsteamy_

**twitter: **_ktkatics_


	9. Chapter 9

**oh, come on, it's me. as if I wouldn't have some form of angst in there. **

**unfortunately, this is all you're going to get from me for at least two weeks (unless I somehow perform a miracle tomorrow and get a chapter written, which, all being well, should be the last one) but i'm going on holiday early friday so thursday is manic packing day. But i'll try and get it finished for you. If not, you'll just have to be patient with me. Thank you again for all the love for this, it means so much!**

* * *

He'd written, and he'd written, pages and pages and then he'd lost count of how much time had passed. He's almost certain that Nikki and Rook are in a much better place than they were before, at least, Rook isn't in a place where he's risking certain death. Well, he is, but at least he's got Nikki as back-up, and both of them are far too good at this together to not be able to get out of this. He's vaguely aware of Kate returning from the shower, of her perusing his shelves and trying to find something to read, grumbling about some of his literary choices, asking him some questions that she doesn't really expect him to answer, but then he gets lost in the plot again, and the next thing he knows is Martha – his mother, shit, it's his mother – calling for him. Kate jerks her head up from the back of one of his armchairs – he thinks she was dozing maybe, her book tumbling from a hand to her leg– her gaze is on the door, before she turns startled eyes on to him.

"Richard, darling!"

"Mother?" he calls out, pushing himself up from his chair. Kate's book drops to the floor as she twists around towards the door. He catches his hip on the corner of his desk as he tries to get to the door and divert his mother away from the people upstairs. "Mother, I thought you were with Alexis upstate?"

The vibrant red hair, the almost garish colours of her clothes, it's definitely Martha Rodgers. "Oh, I was, but then her friends joined her and you know what teenage girls are like – oh, Katherine! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Afternoon, Martha." Kate replies, tilting her head forward so her hair shields the blush rising in her cheeks.

"Oh, no need to be embarrassed dear. I'm glad you two have kissed and made up. But I'm not staying Richard, don't worry. I've been invited to Vienna with some of my theatre group, I just came home to re-pack and then I'll be gone again. Leave you two love birds alone."

"Mother…"

"Okay, okay." She turns with a wave of her hand , disappears into the kitchen, leaving the unmistakable fragrance of steam and facials behind her. Castle follows her, gesturing to Kate to stay where she is as she tries to follow. This is bad enough, and he can't deal with his mothers comments about their relationship right now. Thankfully, there seems to be no sign of his daughter. "Alexis is staying for another couple of days. I hope you don't mind."

"No. No, I don't mind. She should … good to relax, and unwind…"

"Of course it is, Richard, why do you think we go so often? You should try it some time, bring Katherine with you. I am assuming, of course, everything is okay with you two?"

"Yes. We talked things through, and it was just a case of… misunderstanding, I suppose. But we're taking it slow, just… you know." He can't keep his eyes off the stairs, utterly aware that his future self, his future daughter , and wife, could come downstairs at any time. "So, how long are you in Vienna for?"

"Oh, just a week. They're doing a tour of all the theatres, all the productions. Someone dropped out, so they thought I might like to tag along. You don't mind?"

"No, I don't. It's fine. You go have fun in Vienna, I will have absolutely no fun here."

Her eyes sparkle at him, that cheeky glint that lets him know she's thinking the exact oppisute to what he just said. "Uh-huh. Now why don't I believe that?"

* * *

He'd heard her from the top of the stairs. He was going downstairs, something to eat, something to read, maybe. He loves his wife and daughter, but there's only so much watching them sleep he can do without it feeling creepy. But now he's frozen, listening to the sounds of his mother talking about Vienna, all the people she's going with, the productions, the excitement. She's so close. She's so close and all he needs to do is just take a couple of steps down and he can see her. He shouldn't, he _can't,_ and she might see him and that's some explaining he doesn't want to have to face. He can't risk it, can't, he _won't_ because if he goes downstairs there's nothing he can do that will stop him from hugging his mother so tightly that he actually can't let go. So he sinks to the top of the stairs, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth of his mother. He knew he missed her. He knew it still hurt, like a constant ache in his bones, but he never imagined that this would be so painful. He's dreamed about seeing his mother again. He's yearned for it, pleaded with every deity he can think of for just a minute with her, but now he could, now that there's barely a few metres between them, he doesn't want it. Pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes he forces himself to turn, back towards the spare room. It's hard, and every step feels like it weighs a tonne but he eventually reaches the relative sanctity of the room. Neither Kate nor Mollie have moved in the minute he's been gone, and he sinks to the floor with his back against the door.

He loses track of the minutes he stays there, can't even fee the ache in his lower back or his knees. "Castle, babe?". Can't work out how long she's been awake either, her voice half way between asleep and awake, that half slurred speech that he loves to hear wake him up in the mornings.

"Mm?"

"What – what are you doing?"

"Sitting. Can't go downstairs."

Kate struggles to sit up, pushes her hair away with a hand. There's something not quite right with her husband. Something she can't lay a finger on. He looks completely lost and confused, like he's lost forty years and he's twelve years old again. "Why?"

His head tips back against the wood, eyes focused on the ceiling. "My mother. She's downstairs."

"Oh, god, Castle. Castle, I'm sorry." She's out of bed in an instant, sliding down next to him, and he's tugging her against him before her backside has even hit the ground properly.

"She's going to Vienna. With her acting friends. Where she'll drink too much wine and-"

"Castle, try not to-"

"Think about it? How can I not think about it when she's right downstairs?" It's a harsh whisper, one that can't possibly travel downstairs but it makes her wince regardless. "She's right – _there_ and I can't do anything about it. I can't do anything about it and that-"

She grips his hand in hers, trying to steady his frayed nerves, but it doesn't do much, not when she knows how hard this is for him. "I know, Castle, I know. I miss her too."

* * *

The last time she'd watched Castle cook for her was almost two years ago. Two years ago, before her apartment had been blown apart by an obsessed psychopath. He'd made pancakes, only they'd never actually gotten around to eating them, owing to the arrival of a body drop at her front door. It's different now, of course. She can laugh with him, share stories of recipes gone wrong, provide cooking hints that before this would have been just… too domestic. Domestic would have scared her, but now, she finds she doesn't mind so much. She'd gone up to tell Castle and Kate that Martha had left almost an hour ago, but so far the only one to descend has been Martha, the little girl now rooted to the television, and Kate had taken a seat at the counter, the stem of her wine glass between her fingers.

"You think they're okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"They've been up there an hour."

"What's your point? You offended that our future selves aren't socialising with us? You heard what I said, they're breaking all of the rules just by being here. I imagine it's just… easier to keep their distance."

"Unless…"

"Unless?"

Castle wiggles his eyebrows, the hint at possible debauchery making Kate roll her eyes. "Oh, come on Kate. Mollie's down here, they're alone up there, are you really that surprised?"

"Stop your theorising. We weren't doing anything." They turn towards the stairs, Mollie still ingrossed in the cartoon, and her future self looks at least five years older than she did when she went upstairs, Kate realises. What the heck happened?"Just talking."

"Just you?"

"Yeah, Castle, he's – he needs a moment."

"Is he okay?"

"I – he – no, but I can't really… say anything. It's …" She bites on her lip, hard, and Kate finds herself running the tip of her tongue over her own as if she could suddenly feel the hard press of teeth. "He'll be down later."

Castle tries and tries to wheedle answers out of her, but Kate remains stubbornly silent, and refuses to say anything throughout dinner unless it was to her daughter.

* * *

"It was Martha, wasn't it?" Kate had cornered her future self after dinner after seeing how his upset future self had shaken _her_ Castle. She wants her to deny it, wants to tell her that Martha is _fine_ in the future, that she gets to see her great grandchildren, and that she gets to meet Mollie. "Martha surprised him because she's not there where you came from."

"Kate…"

"What happened?"

"I _can't_."

"I won't tell him."

"Really? You're going to keep it a secret? Cos that worked out _so_ well for you the last time, didn't it?... Sorry, I didn't mean for that to be so rude. I wish I could do something, Kate. I wish that I could tell you something that will help save her, but I can't. There's – there'll be consequences for you and for me, for us, and I'm not doing that. I'd be in enough trouble if the TTA worked out that we were even here. I can't do anything, I'm sorry."

"At least tell me how long. How long do we have?"

Kate's gaze flicks to her husband, to the past Castle, and then to Mollie, and then back to her past self. There's desperation in her eyes, a longing to try and make everything right, but there's defeat there. The knowledge that there's not a damn thing she can do about it. "She meets Mollie." She finally sighs, pressing her fingers into her forehead, eyes closed in something Kate assumes is regret. Already. She regrets it. "And she's… sort of around for Alexis' wedding. But that's it, that's all I'm going to tell you. And you can't mention anything to him. Under no circumstances must you tell Castle anything."

"Okay. I won't. "

"Even if he asks."

"He won't."

Kate raises one eyebrow at her in disbelief, both of them knowing full well that there aren't a lot of questions that Castle won't ask. If he thinks his mother is at risk, rest assured he would do anything to make sure she was safe. "I'm trusting you with this, and I don't know why because heaven knows I should just keep my mouth shut. But if you mess our future up…"

"I _won't_. Not now I know what's at stake."

"You don't know the half of it. Being thrown in jail for changing the course of time isn't the worst that will happen, I wish it was. If it was as easy as a few years behind bars I'd save Martha in a heartbeat if it meant she was still with us, but it's not."

"What's the worst?"

"Stop interrogating me. I wish I could help, Kate. But we really – we should be going."

"You don't have to."

"Yes, we do. We don't belong in this time. And you and Castle can't work things out while we're still here, and every minute is some awkward dance where we try and avoid each other. We need to go home. Mollie needs to go home."

* * *

**tumblr: **sirmcsteamy

**twitter: **ktkatics


	10. Chapter 10

**Well, that's that. Sorry it's not as long as the other chapters, but the house is in chaos, and I still haven't finished packing. See how much I love you guys! To make up for it, you'll get an epilogue when I'm back home. Lots of love from me, to all of you who reviewed, favourited and followed, I never expected this to get so much attention. So glad you enjoyed it.**

**Until next time.**

**KT**

**xo**

* * *

"Mollie, there is no way all of this is going to make it home. There's too much stuff, and not enough space." Her daughter is sat surrounded by a pile of clothes, looking mournfully from one item to another and trying to decide what she wants to keep and what she wants to leave here. "Why did you have to buy so much stuff, Mollie?"

"I needed clothes!"

"Two or three outfits. That's all you needed. There's this magical invention called a washing machine, you remember that?" The petulant jut of Mollie's bottom lip comes into force, her brow dropping into the trademarked Castle puppy dog look. "It's no good looking at me like that! There is physically no room for this stuff in these bags, I am not a Time Lord."

"The Doctor could probably fit it all in." Mollie grumbles in return, folding her arms over her chest. So melodramatic, Martha really would be proud.

"Yes, I'm sure he could. If you're not going to be of any help up here, then go and talk to your father. He needs some cheering up. And you cannot complain when I have to leave half of… this behind."

"I bet you won't leave your shoes behind."

"You can either go downstairs or you can sit in the corner for five minutes, your choice." The furrowed brow turns from sulking to angry in a matter of seconds, Castle to Beckett, just like that. "Five seconds to be out of that door… five, four, three-"

Mollie jumps from the bed, landing on the floor with a louder thud than was necessary and Kate's tempted to put her in the corner anyway. But she's too stressed, too tired and worn out to deal with it afterwards and she lets Mollie storm out of the room making just as much noise. The loud stomps follow her downstairs. She can hear the indignant yelling from here.

* * *

"Got everything?"

"No." Mollie immediately interjects, still shooting glares at her mother, who glares back just as hard. Castle tugs hard on his daughters hand, draws her into his other side.

"We have the important stuff, don't we Mollie?" He gets a grunt in reply, the girl too busy talking in a low voice to the stuffed dragon in her free arm. "Don't be rude, Mollie."

"I'm _not_. I'm having a conversation with Dragon, and you're interrupting. That's being rude."

"The moment we're getting home, you're going in the corner." Kate snaps. "And we are going. Thank you, for looking after her. And for looking after us, and accepting this… mostly."

Castle grins back at her, trying not to be amused by his future daughters antics, but he can't help it. She's the worst mix of both of them, and he loves it. "Anytime. And you know, if you want to pop back for a visit… doors always open."

"Thank you, but no thank you. I think one visit was enough for all of us. Besides, we'll be back soon enough, I suppose."

"Are you going to… time travel here? Or somewhere private?"

"No, we could do it here. But you'll need to step back, two metres at least."

Castle is already fiddling with a small silver box, pressing something that doesn't seem to be there, but then he's placing it at his feet. It must have worked because he can suddenly feel the energy coming off of it. He can't explain how it makes him feel, like he's standing in the middle of a thundercloud, and Kate's pulling him backwards away from it until the feeling leaves him entirely. Castle – future Castle – stands Mollie a few feet in front of him and Castle is slightly concerned that the girl will step out of the circle and she'll be stuck here again. But, she's too focused on her one sided conversation to notice, or to care. And then – it looks like they just fold in on themselves – they're gone.

He turns to Kate who is just blinking at the previously occupied space. "That, is my new favourite thing."

* * *

Mollie lands on her butt. The ground is hard, and it jolts her, and it doesn't take long for the tears to fall and the screams to start. Kate takes the two steps to her daughter and scoops her up, arms banded across her body, whispering comforting words into her ear. Suddenly the room is swarming with people, the sergeant, all of his men, running around with them scanners and machines and lord knows what else. But it's just procedure, they all know to keep still until it's over.

"She's safe? She's okay?"

"Yeah, just had a rough landing." Kate replies with a smile, brushing Mollie's tears away with a thumb. "I think the whole thing shook her up more than she was letting on. But she's okay. Wasn't hurt in the slightest."

"Didn't take you long to find her?"

"No, we had a decent idea of where she would be. We just took a few hours to get our bearings before we came back."

"Nothing went wrong?"

"Smooth as clockwork." She replies, shooting Castle a knowing smile. He winks back, already locked in an engaging conversation with one of the officers whose waving what looks like a TV aerial at him.

* * *

"Momma?"

"Yeah, little monkey?"

"I'm sorry I was rude." Mollie is curled up in her lap in the car, knees pressed into her ribcage, head under her chin. Technically illegal, but she couldn't give a damn right now. She's just glad to be back in the city she knows, back together with her family, on their way home.

"Then you're forgiven."

Mollie is quiet again, her breathing even against Kate's hand, but then she speaks up again. "Do I still have to go in the corner?"

Castle laughs from the seat next to them, and Kate gives him a not so subtle nudge with her elbow. It's not funny. Except, maybe it is. Just a little bit. "Maybe just for two minutes. Okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

"It feels too quiet now."

He's looking around his loft, mostly amused by the destruction left behind by the world wind that was Mollie. There's crayons and paper on the table, books strewn across the coffee table, some stuffed toys that didn't make the cut taking up residence on the sofa. He fancies keeping them there forever. Might raise questions from his mother and Alexis, but he could probably come up with some plausible story.

"You miss her?"

"Yeah. Kind of. I got so used to having her around."

"It was like… three days."

"I get attached very quickly. I had a goldfish from the fair once. It barely survived the night, and I mourned for a week."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"What do you mean? I'm constantly full of surprises!"

"Yeah, I bet you are." There's a telling twinkle in her eyes, a subtle flick of her eyes to no-where north of his waist before they return to his eyes.

Well, if that's the way she wants to do it .Two can play at that game."And what's _that_ supposed to mean, Beckett?"

"It means…" she begins, only to be interrupted by her phone. She digs it out of her pocket, and then grimaces at the caller ID. "Beckett… yeah… yeah we'll be right there." She hangs up, and then returns the cell to her pocket. She looks like she's about to turn, to head towards the door, but she stops halfway and turns back. And then she's grabbing him by the lapels, and pushing herself up onto her tiptoes so she can reach his mouth. She's so tantalising, and right _there_, and then he remembers that kissing her is a thing he can actually do now. He hopes. She didn't seem to mind the last time. He cups the back of her neck with his hand, lowers his mouth onto hers, and it makes his stomach knot when he feels her smiling against his skin. Even more so when she presses her whole body against him, all lithe and strong and _so_ hot, and damn it he just wants to stay like this forever. All too soon she's pulling away from him, stroking his shirt into something resembling acceptable.

"Come on, Castle. We've got a murder."

* * *

**tumblr: **sirmcsteamy

**twitter: **ktkatics


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